Murder Genes (24 page)

The crunching finally faded and teeth no longer coated the ground.
 
Jay recognized the surroundings.
 
"Through here," he said.

They walked right into the medical ward where Karah was sewing up some other guy's butt, fish-hook needle in hand.
 
"You must like asses," Jay said to her.

Both looked up and Jay walked up and knocked the wounded guy unconscious with the--butt--of his knife.
 
She stared at him in shock.
 
"Jay?"

"You remember me."

"You're Redeemer, right?"

He grinned.
 
"Yes I a..."

"What the hell are you doing here?
 
When Gamer finds out--and he will because I'm telling him--you're dead.
 
You get it?
 
And with an Enforcer, too?
 
What's he doing here?
 
What's going on?"
 
Her cheeks had gone red from breathing hard.

He let her wait, and then he replied.
 
"Gamer's dead."

"Not funny, Jay."

"I'm not joking.
 
And I'm here to save you.
 
Returning the favor, you know."

She was silent for a good while and he thought he saw her lip quiver.
 
"I don't know if I should believe you," she said.

She was a Survivor who'd gotten used to her way of surviving.
 
Change would be scary.
 
She'd been protected, not happy, but protected.
 
"Esperanza is the only place in Morir where nobody dies on a daily basis, on any basis."

"It's real then?"

"Sure it is.
 
People live almost like humans there."

"You're kidding..." her voice trailed off.

"No," he said.

But she wasn't talking to him.
 
Jay followed her gaze straight behind him.
 
"Fuck," Jay said.

Mike was holding his gun right up to Jay's nose.
 
"What are you doing?
 
She's clean, you don't need to trick her."

"Up against the wall, Jay."

Jay obeyed, moving slowly.
 
He'd seen how fast Mike'd been on the trigger.
 
Fast enough to be in a Western.
 
What was going on?

Mike walked behind Karah.
 
He shifted the gun onto her.
 
"Sit," he told her.

She took a seat in the chair behind her, all the while looking at Jay as if this was
his
fault.

"Talk to me Mike, what do you want?"
 
None of this made any sense.
 
Mike had killed Gamer to prove his loyalty.
 
What was going on and why was the gun pointed at Karah?
 
If he'd wanted to get Jay, he could've killed him any of his ten chances to.

Then, looking at Mike's maniacal smile, Jay figured it out.
 
Revenge.
 
The kind of revenge of a torn up a guy's heart.

"You really care about her, don't you?"
 
The edge of Mike's lip quivered.
 
"You must, if in all this time of saving people, you're finally coming to risk your life in Toothache's Lair.
 
It's always been anywhere but here."
 
Mike's looked so excited that he seemed high.
 
Either that or he had the biggest erection right now.
 
"You really must care about her.
 
I had to see it for myself."

"Well you saw it.
 
Now drop the fucking gun," Jay said.

"This is perfect justice," Mike moaned.

Goddamnit Paul.
 
It's YOUR fault this is happening.
 
Or maybe it was karma, Jay's own damn fault.

"If you really care for her, put the knife down," Mike said.

There were a few things he'd gotten good at.
 
One of them was throwing knives, even at a distance.
 
Plus, Karah was a Survivor, she'd duck.
 
Or he hoped she would.

Jay chucked the knife straight at Mike.
 
Karah, bless her, ducked and the blade went into Mike's opposite shoulder.
 
Mike roared, pulling away in pain as Jay rushed forward, catching the man's wrists before he could aim it on Jay or Karah.
 
They wrestled for a while and Jay saw Karah dart out of the room.
 
He didn't blame her, it was her instinct--a Survivor.

But then she appeared moments later, wielding a scalpel.
 
He grit his teeth, wrestling hard until he somehow ended up to the side and slightly behind Mike's body.
 
Jay was losing his grip on the gun.
 
Mike threw an elbow into Jay's face and Karah screamed, charging forward from across the room.
 
Jay lost hold of Mike's wrists, even as his senses sharpened from the hard achy pain.

The Enforcer let out a triumphant yell and pointed the gun at Karah.

Jay had no choice.
 
He threw his left hand right onto the glowing red part of the gun where he wasn't supposed to touch, keeping as much of his body behind the huge Enforcer as he could.
 
About three pitches of sound and panicked wrestling later--

The gun exploded.

Jay hit the ground and felt the Enforcer's weight land right on top of him.
 
There was rush of searing agony from his arm and then he looked and felt a rush of sickness.
 
Sickness and clarity.
 
Sharp bones from halfway up his forearm stuck out from where his hand had been.
 
Charred flesh half mutilated hung thread like off his stump.
 
Jay swallowed the scream of sheer panic and hurt that threatened to escape.
 
Because he'd never felt anything like this before.
 
This kind of agony.
 
This kind of
focus
that overwhelmed him to the point that it felt like he'd faint.
 
Jay managed a crawling roll out from underneath Mike, dragging himself out from under the Enforcer's body.
 
He saw Karah laying on the floor a distance away.
 
She moved a little.
 
She was alive.

Jay crawled to her, cradling his arm.
 
It wasn't bleeding very much and there were burn marks covering the stump.
 
"Karah!" he said, shaking her.
 
Her image blurred, and he could tell he was swaying, but he couldn't prevent it.

She blinked.
 
Her eyes went to his stump with the half-foot paired bones sticking out of them.

"C'mon, we've got to go," he said to her.

She just stared.

There was a roar-scream behind him, and Jay spun.
 
Fucking Mike!
 
The Enforcer had pulled the knife out from his shoulder with his remaining hand and even with his face half-blown off Jay saw the rage in the his eye.
 
He charged Jay, holding the knife above him like a homicidal maniac.

Karah yelled something and Jay tried to move, but he felt weak, too weak to deflect a man Mike's size.

So he used the only weapon he had--

--the bones sticking out of his wrist.

He leaned away and stabbed.
 
Straight into the Enforcer's armpit with all the force he could muster.
 
Mike's body stopped like it hit a brick wall, and his knife arm drooped and then dropped.
 
His body slumped and Jay tried to pull his bones free, but they caught on some ribs.
 
Mike's body came down.
 
Jay felt a snap.
 
Higher up in his arm, right by the elbow.

I can't take this.
 
Jay blinked, looking at the ceiling.
 
Nausea overcame him in torrents of white flashing waves.
 
He felt his eyes roll to the side like he couldn't control them.

Karah's face hovered above him and he felt his wrist pulled free roughly.
 
Then she was running around the room, grabbing things and throwing them on his stump.
 
Probably disinfectant or something.
 
He couldn't think, like the pain had finally overwhelmed him and a cloud had descended over his mind because when he willed his body to move, it moved a split second late--like he was using a video game controller or something to tell his body what to do.

She disappeared again and when she came back, she was holding a syringe.
 
She put it right into his stump.
 
It barely hurt.
 
"It's my only one.
 
I've been saving it."

The pain eased.
 
Just enough for clarity to return.

Sensation from the rest of his body slowly trickled back to him.
 
His hearing caught some kind of commotion not too far away, he felt his pulse rapid in his throat, he felt Karah's breasts right up against his arm as she lifted him to his feet.
 
They were soft, and wonderful.

"Go, get out of here," she said.

"You aren't coming?" he gasped.

She looked at Mike's body.
 
"I'm sorry Jay, I can't believe you after seeing this.
 
I'm safer here."

"I didn't come all this way to leave you behind."
 
His breath was coming back to him even if he still felt weak as a babe.

"You won't convince me.
 
Just leave."

"You don't have to stay in this hell hole.
 
And there's no telling the next Gamer will treat you as 'well' as the last."
 
The commotion had spread, yells and in-fighting erupting.
 
That's what happened when a Gamer died.
 
It'd be chaos for a while.

"I've done too much already.
 
Please just go."
 
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, when she did, he felt a tear cling to his cheek.
 
Karah sat down in her chair and folder her hands in her lap.
 
"Go," she said again.

He couldn't drag her, could he?
 
Not with one hand, at least.
 
"Meet me at Pope's Hat in two days, dawn.
 
I'll come for you then if you change your mind."

She kept sitting.

After he'd glanced around to see if his hand was completely disintegrated and unsalvageable, he got the hell out of Lair.

And yes, it was.
 
Nothing salvageable bigger than a
thumb
tack.

Chapter 17

The Scientific method has failed us.

Decades of research have left us with little to no practical application.
 
Billions and trillions of dollars pumped into pharmaceutical research led us to barren wastelands, no different than we first began in the exploration of the world of health.
 
Not when compared to first and even second world countries that have funded their own research into "Natural Science" methods.

There is a time and a use for every tool, but perhaps we've overused this tool?

If we were to use the Scientific Method to test itself in efficacy and usefulness, using historic population and citizen health as our markers, we clearly see that the Scientific Method has failed in comparison with methods as ancient as Chinese Trial-and-Error.

Progress has been made, doubtless, there is no argument against that, but perhaps we can admit that there are things too complicated for the Scientific Method to encompass.
 
The European originated Natural Science Method takes into account finite time.
 
Let us take a chance and realize that we are finite beings and thus, science cannot ever factor or collect every aspect of human anatomy, emotion, and lifestyles.
 
Not in time.

I suggest we embrace common sense into our science, before it is too late and we are all dead.
 
Or do we need a study to prove that, first?

-Fillamore, Eric.
 
"It's not too late.
 
US Science Plays 'Catch-up.'"
 
Healthblog
.
 
Jan 18, 2018.
 
Http://healthblog.health/science/its.not.too.late

Kyle climbed into the blue Vortex--Tim and Del's electric car.

"How was school, son?" Tim asked.

"Where's Del?"

Tim sighed.
 
"I really wish you would call us 'Mom' and 'Dad'.
 
Let's try that again.
 
How was school, son?"

Kyle bobbed his head.
 
"Good."
 
It hadn't been good, it never was, but that's what Tim and Del wanted to hear.

Tim began driving and Kyle sat back in his seat.
 
A second later, Tim took a left turn instead of a right.
 
"Where are we going?" Kyle asked immediately.